I have nothing positive to say about The Memory Collectors, so I'll keep this review short

A book about revisiting memories is inevitably going to feel nostalgic and sentimental, so when every single character in The Memory Collectors has the type of sob story that would make them fan-favorites on a reality TV singing competition, the nostalgia and sentimentality get dialed up to one thousand. The result is a very maudlin and melodramatic story.

There are still several versions of this premise that could have worked, but what you get is more of an airplane read than anything else, which is fine. Easy and quick books should exist. They just don't have to be this shallow. The Memory Collectors is so lacking in substance that it's incapable of pulling your heartstrings unless you're already exhausted and traveling. Trauma is solved tritely; the messy protagonists turn neat and tidy after receiving a hug and one line of throw-pillow wisdom; romance is framed as a cure for everything; every character is flat, and no one has distinct voices; zero sharp observations or meditations are made about human memory or about time travel; it's not a philosophical or cyberpunk piece either; there are tons of plot conveniences; and don't even get me started on the agonizingly bland prose and its tendency to summarize. All you get is sci-fi window dressing draped over a thriller mystery that's not even thrilling or mysterious. A lot of answers are revealed early, others aren't given at all, and some information is unnecessarily repeated, so the story doesn't keep you on the edge of your seat as much as it should. It doesn't help that the ending is anticlimactic.

Basically there are better airplane reads out there. Don't bother with this one unless you have no other forms of entertainment to pass the time. I'd especially stay away if you're annoyed by casual ableism or by romance under false pretenses.